Objective (Bloodlines #2)(52)

“Say it,” she whispers a centimeter from my mouth.

“It,” I joke. She narrows her eyes at me playfully. We’ve done this dance before and I love being able to push her buttons. I’ve missed it.

“Tell me,” she pushes. Her voice is all business as she flattens herself against me and I like it.

“How many times do I need to tell you? If there's anyone in this world that I could love, it's you. Why is that never enough?” I admit. I’m warring with myself. Do I go all in and defy Ezra or do I just give enough for the next few days to get us home? Everything seems so complicated now. I want to tell her that she’s my world. That I will never give up on her, but I don’t. She’s different now too. She’s holding back still and I don’t know why. We’re both avoiding any discussion which might break this fragile balance we have currently. I don’t want to ruin this limited time we have together by asking the hard questions. I watch her face go all soft on me before she gently caresses her lips over mine. She’s giving me sweetness and tenderness. She’s giving me truth. She’s giving me something I thought I would never get from her again.

“It was always enough, Cane and it always will be.” She pulls away and moves around me snagging her shopping bag from the couch on her way to the bathroom. I’m hard from her words and want nothing more than to follow her into the shower, but I’m not sure we’re there yet so I leave her to get cleaned up on her own. Hell, three minutes ago I was sure I’d never get to taste those incredible lips again.



Legend’s Corner is a long narrow bar. The stage is set up in the corner right by the front door and it’s packed tonight even though it’s almost one in the morning. Radio Romance is on stage performing and they’ve got the crowd going wild. Magnolia’s smile is infectious. She managed to hide her mangled face, sort of. I’ve never seen her wear so much makeup before but she’d come back from the lobby shop with a fully stocked bag of it. Eyeliner painted on thick, dark smoky eyes, thick lush lashes and her lips painted to perfection. She looks hot and badass and completely not like my girl. Her tank top shows her tattoo off and she’s got her hair swept off her back piled high on her head with some long pieces hanging around her face to cover up my marks. Men keep staring at her and I want to beat each and every one of their faces in for looking at her.

“Stop it, Cane!” she calls out over the music giving me the evil eye.

“What?” I feign innocence.

“I’m used to it, you know. The attention. I’ve been slinging drinks for a year,” she sighs, pressing a kiss to my ear lightly.

“I should’ve bought pants. Those shorts should be illegal,” I whine jealously. She quirks an eyebrow at me and smirks. I love it when she does that.

“What do you want to drink?” I ask, ignoring her look.

“Bourbon,” she states. Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow at her. Bourbon?

“They have beer and wine,” I inform her. Before I know what's happening she’s pushing her way to the bar and squeezed between two men. One looks down at her and grins before leaning to her ear and whispering something. She says something back and throws an elbow in his side discreetly before hollering her order to the bartender. The force of her elbow was great enough to make the man wince and move away. The day Magnolia White showed any kind of aggression was the day hell would have frozen over. My head pounds with all the changes. It’s too much to take on. Too much to deal with. I want my Mags back. Sweet. Gentle. Innocent.

“Here.” She thrusts a beer at me, holding a bourbon for herself.

“Bourbon?” I shake my head confused. Since when does Magnolia drink hard shit?

“Bourbon.” She shrugs and lifts the glass to her lips to drink.

We resort to drinking in silence and watching the band. I can’t stop warring with myself. I want this time together to just be as effortless as it always was between us but I know what waits for us at the end. I still don’t have answers over why the hell she shot me, or Ezra, or whatever the f*ck she was aiming for that night. There are too many variables and I’ve lived with the hate that I harbored for too long to just let it go. I can see it eat at her too but for whatever reason, she seems to deal with it better than I do. Watching her sway back and forth, the music blaring turns me on. Instinctively I lean to her and brush my lips just under her ear and watch as goose bumps pop up along her arm. I’m so sick and twisted. Is it possible to love someone so deeply that you can hate them as well?

“I’ll be right back.” She twists her head to mine as she speaks. Unease bubbles in my stomach. Would she run? “Cane. I have to pee.” She rolls her eyes at me and starts towards the back of the bar. I can’t help but notice all the dudes staring at her ass as she walks away from me. I redirect my gaze to the stage. She’s just peeing. She won’t leave.

“Hey, hawtie,” some young thing drawls, breaking me from my thoughts. I look over the young face next to me. She looks tanked. Her eyes are glazed over a bit and her curly blonde hair looks a little too bleached for my taste. But she’s got a screaming body that just last week I would have taken advantage of, but now, now I don't really have interest.

“Hey,” I reply dully as she drinks me in. Her finger comes to my bicep and trails its way down the beer in my hand.